ung by any child of song,
Praise it. Do not let the singer
Wait deserved praises long;
Why should one that thrills your heart
Lack that joy it may impart?

If you hear a prayer that moves you
By its humble pleading tone,
Join it. Do not let the seeker
Bow before his God alone;
Why should not your brother share
The strength of "two or three" in prayer?

If you see the hot tears falling
From a loving brother's eyes,
Share them, and by sharing,
Own your kinship with the skies;
Why should anyone be glad,
When his brother's heart is sad?

If a silver laugh goes rippling
Through the sunshine on his face,
Share it. 'Tis the wise man's saying,
For both grief and joy a place;
There's health and goodness in the mirth
In which an honest laugh has birth.

If your work is made more easy
By a friendly helping hand,
Say so. Speak out brave and truly,
Ere the darkness veil the land.
Should a brother workman dear
Falter for a word of cheer?

Scatter thus your seed of kindness,
All enriching as you go--
Leave them, trust the Harvest-Giver;
He will make each seed to grow.
So, until its happy end,
Your life shall never lack a friend.

The Fortunate Isles

You sail and you seek for the Fortunate Isles,
The old Greek Isles of the yellow bird's song?
Then steer right on through the watery miles,
Straight on, straight on, and you can't go wrong.
Nay, not to the left, nay, not to the right;
But on, straight on, and the Isles are in sight,
The Fortunate Isles, where the yellow birds sing
And life lies girt with a golden ring.

These Fortunate Isles, they are not far;
They lie within reach of the lowliest door;
You can see them gleam by the twilight star;
You can hear them sing by the moon's white shore,
Nay, never look back! Those leveled gravestones,
They were landing steps; they were steps unto thrones
Of glory for souls that have sailed before
And have set white feet on the fortunate shore.

And what are the names of the Fortunate Isles?
Why, Duty and Love and a large content.
Lo! there are the isles of the watery miles
That God let down from the firmament;
Lo! Duty and Love, and a true man's trust;
Your forehead to God and your feet in the dust;
Lo! Duty and Love, and a sweet babe's smiles,
And there, O friend, are the Fortunate Isles.

_Joaquin Miller._

What the Choir Sang About the New Bonnet

A foolish little maiden bought a foolish little bonnet,